


Kaleidoscope

by AnubisWrites



Series: Offerings to the Solar Demigod [3]
Category: Hindu Religions & Lore, Mahabharata - Vyasa
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25926337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnubisWrites/pseuds/AnubisWrites
Summary: Hues and tones, we're meant to think,Stay reserved for our eyes.But they seep within, crash and sink,And you've always been paying a price.
Series: Offerings to the Solar Demigod [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873978
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10
Collections: Hindu Mythology Event





	Kaleidoscope

**Author's Note:**

> The day has come when I finally write angst. And I'm very proud of the result.
> 
> Enjoy!

Unknown.

It’s all new. It’s huge and the world seems so far away from the little hands in his vision. A tiny palm reaches up to grab the vague figure he sees in the dark, but he’s swept away. A rustling settles in his ears as he sees the figure go further and further away and suddenly he’s bobbing up and down and left and right and the sky spins in his vision as the trees and stars rush by and he feels a new emotion. His face feels hot and his stomach aches and he wails for the figure to come back and take him into their arms again. 

He closes his eyes of exhaustion and continues to sob silently. Soon he is picked up and held close, and he feels safe.

A passion of scarlet tinge lights up his heart as he sees the arrows whizz through the air. _Wouldn’t you like to hold that power? To look at something, and to have that be your aim so easily it’s as if you’ve known it all your life?_ He was in awe of the dedication of the students, of the peace in their hearts and the focus of their minds. 

The scarlet shifts to vermillion as he picks up the weapon himself, and the world turns around to stare at him. They are focused on him, and their words hit him as if a thousand arrows scattered his flesh in all directions. The blood red of anger and disgust in their eyes scares him, but he holds tight to the strong wood of his bow. He feels the engravings of the celestial weapon in his hands. The red screams of the destruction it has caused, the intellect of the world’s architect, and the countless lessons by his Guru; they all reside in the bow and every arrow he shoots finds its mark.

The grip falters sometimes. The stares pierce through him again and his arrows seem to be directed back to him. _Why me? Why not me?_ He asks in the quiet recesses of his mind. He looks up to see him, his deity, Surya. And His brilliance bounces off the Kavach on his chest and blinds those who stare at him. _You are just as powerful, my child._ The Sun seems to say. 

And he believes Him. He has brought himself so far with his own valour and strength. The orange-gold radiance of his Kavach-Kundal give him reassurance, and he bows to the one who gave them to him ; the one who gives him hope for a brighter tomorrow.

A crash resounds in the air as a pot breaks near a river. He turns, and finds his heart thud with that hope. It’s a beautiful feeling, love, and he stays up all night thinking of her. Of her smile, her batting eyelashes, the stutter in her voice as their eyes locked and both of them were mesmerised ; just the thought of her made him feel fulfilled. Seven rounds around the heavenly fire, and each one deepens their love. When finally left alone, he gently kisses her forehead, and promises to always protect her. 

His friend, his best friend, hugs him tightly. It’s an anchor, this friendship, and he cherishes it with all he has. He puts his arms around him and tightens the embrace. They nestle closer into the other's neck. How wonderful it was, to feel so supported and cared for. He silently promises to never let go, and be the anchor his friend needed. 

He sits by his mother, and lays his head in her lap. All the worries of the world wash away as she gently moves her hand through his locks and tells him about her day. What she cooked for today, where his father talked about with Pitamah Bhishma, and how his brother had goofed up once again. At his name his brother would comes and sits beside him, trying to remove the accusations of their mother. And he would smile and gently ruffle his hair, winking at him subtly to convey that bhaiyya was still by his side. But Radha Ma would catch it and roll her eyes, and they would all laugh in familial joy. 

He kept these feelings locked away as amber in his heart, looking back at them when he felt restless, and being in awe of their beauty each time. They were frozen in time for him, shining in all their heartwarming affection. Love, adoration, friendship, respect ; oh how wonderful it was to be the target of such feelings!

Then a shade of jade overtakes his vision, and the amber is stowed away deeper, away from anyone’s reach. Envy takes over his mind. It’s a forest with winding paths and huge trees of great size that confuse him about the direction he’s taking. It’s a sweltering and poisonous quicksand that pulls him in deeper and deeper and deeper, until the only thing he sees is all that he left outside. The amber sits on a stone, vulnerable and fragile. And as his eyes dip beneath the surface, a silent scream leaves his mouth.

He’s floating in a numbness. The rumbling static that filled his mind all his life is silent now, and it scares him. The silence demands. It demands to be broken. It demands questions for oneself, and all the answers one has. He wishes for the static to return, to drown away all that the silence demands. All that he is unwillingly asking of himself. 

Drown. He’s drowning. It’s a gasp of breath, a useless flurry of tangled limbs, one last attempt to swim towards the azure sky before the grief drowns him completely. He calls for Surya, but the darkness that spirals from his chest is the only answer. He thrashes about, all alone with the world spinning past him, unable to think, to breathe to do anything that would just make it stop please _make it stop please make it stop stop stop I can’t breathe I didn’t want to do this I never meant to do this I am so sorry-_

It’s a rush of air that makes his ears pop. He’s in an open field of flowers, and the sky is a light shade of lavender. He plucks a flower and takes in its aroma. Relief and calm washes over him as the scent travels.

He looks up to see Him standing in the distance, smiling as he always does, and a peacock feather in his crown. He looks back at the flower and securely puts it in his hair, the scent ever closer now. He bows down to Him, and lets all his emotions wash over. A teardrop makes its way down his cheek as his mind opens the gates to all that had been locked away for years. 

A bright white blinds him for a moment. He’s among flashes of hues in the sparks that fly and the splashes of colours that stain him all over. He sees all that he was, all that he is, but not what he can be. A tap on his shoulder makes him look away from the colours, and he turns to gasp in awe. It’s a vision so great, he could never describe it in words. His mind is on the verge of breaking at seeing the whole universe, with all its inhabitants, places, songs, writing, art, seas, trenches, mountains and all that he can’t name at once. Millions of arms spread apart in an invitation.

He steps forward, finally at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. This one meant a lot to me personally. Writing about feelings takes a bit of those feelings and saves it in the work, you know? 
> 
> Until next time!


End file.
